And Then There Was
by little miss demosthenes
Summary: What made Artemis speechless, twice, when he was five? This fic attempts to explain. /Guys... this was a one-shot. That means it's over. Also, ATTW certainly wasn't my best work. There were tons of holes. Much love for the support./ /One-shot/


//* Disclaimer Must we go through this? I tried to own, but learned the hard way that you do not take what others had written down first. My lawsuit cost a *lot*! Just a warning to all of you out there... 

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In the third book, Colfer mentioned about Artemis' speechlessness. Apparently, this only occurred twice in his lifetime - after his fifth birthday. What caused his inability to answer? Is there a reason for the coldness of his character?

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My briefly inspired, verb-changing [sorry! Late in the night, before bluebook, and inability to keep verbs in the same tense =P], and wild fic attempts to explain. If it has technical errors, blame the computer! ^_~; Point your finger there!

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Oh, and one last thing. This is Artemis when he is five. It doesn't sound like a normal five-year-old. Such a nice vocabulary! =P

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Please enjoy and review! If you liked this fic, check out Imagining Reality, my chapter-by-chapter fic. Thanks for reading!*//

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**_And Then There Was_**

*****

Even if Butler were there, he wouldn't have been able to do anything at all. Maybe drop his jaw, but I could drop my jaw very well without the help of another person. But instead of dropping my jaw, I clenched myself very hard to keep from crying. I wanted, strangely, to be hugged by a mother, not lost in a swarm of people. 

I think my hatred for carbon dioxide started then. Aside from that, all I remembered was the _heat_. I looked up, and there was the sun, glaring at me. My jaws hurt so much from gritting, that at that moment, I might have needed Butler to help me drop it. There was nothing I could do but stay.

My entire. Head. _Pounded_. I was trudging through like a complete _idiot_: _squashed_ between two extremely _loud_ teenagers. Escaping was more difficult than taxonomy. _Stop walking_, I thought. I bent down, hoping they would slip past me. 

"And then," one of them giggled. "Then he gave me this _incredibly_ cute look and he - he _kissed_ me..."

I ran toward what-might-be-east, blindly dodging fathers with their strollers. _East_! But I was going...north...? The sun...?

- Wasn't...there..._anymore_...

I sighed and clenched harder. _This_ is what they call downtown Los Angeles. I had failed to see the beauty of this city.

But when your parents insist, can you refuse?

Curls of smoke came from a fat old woman in front of me. She wore a shirt that read "I Love Penguins", with a giant, mutated bird smiling at me. I evaded its look - the gender I could not tell - but I knew it was staring at _me_. 

I found myself following her because there was nothing else I could do. I searched vainly for the ice cream shop that gave me free samples, the place where I had last left Butler. But the only vendors I saw were ones selling cotton candy. 

I kept on walking behind the woman. The penguin bobbed up and down as she barreled through, but its eyes never left me. My fear of being watched made me walk further left, until my elbow could touch the store windows.

The bird, however, still smiled at me, showing all its teeth. I tried to go right until I felt the gas coming out of cars. There weren't many, as most everyone was heading toward the parade. The few that were on the street moved slowly. On the shirt, two inches under the letters 'Pe', the same pair of eyes watched.

I had to wonder why she was so _fat_. People who smoke are usually skinny. Thinking about this didn't help: smoke _continued_ to blow in my face. I doubled in my head to make myself stop coughing. 

_One. Two. Four. Eight. Sixteen. Thirty two. Sixty four. __One twenty eight__._

"Turn left."

For the first time, I noticed that the woman had a walkie-talkie attached to her hip. Someone was paging her. 

She stuffed the cigarette in her mouth and pushed a button. "Now?"

The penguin laughed at me.

"Yes. Turn left on 6th Street, which is coming up right now. Boss is waiting."

The woman grunted and obeyed.

I stood there, watching. The penguin was leaving as the woman began to run. Who will I follow now? Where is Butler? I _demand_ my bodyguard!

_Two fifty six__. __Five twelve__. _

I considered my position. I am stuck in downtown Los Angeles. My parents and bodyguard are not with me. Therefore, I am alone. The woman I have been following has now turned. I no longer have someone to follow. I am lost. I want my geometry book. I hate California.

I considered my limited choices.

Stay where I am. Find a police officer or some authority figure so they can help me find my family. Follow another person. Follow the fat woman.

The most reasonable choice was to find a respectable police officer. I left the corner of Broadway and 6th Street and headed...south...

On my way, I didn't pause to help any two-year-old I knocked down, up. I simply dashed through the crowd without a trace of politeness. I wanted someone in a uniform. 

Within six minutes, I found an officer directing..._traffic_. Cars were beginning to pile up _already_ - maybe because of rush hour...or more likely because of the parade.

_One thousand twenty four. Two thousand forty eight. Four thousand ninety six._

"Excuse me, sir?"

My mother might have winced. Tone was a part of good manners as well. I sounded squeaky. 

The officer looked down at me like he was inspecting gravity. Only, this gravity had black hair and blue eyes, and he hated Los Angeles. I guessed the man tried to smile. He showed all his teeth like that penguin.

"Do you need anything son?"

I grounded my own teeth. I don't like that smile, or creepy penguins. This man was looking like the shirt I just got away from.

"Could you advertise message?"

Silence.

He frowned like he needed cough drops. At least the frown was real. And I suppose most five-year-olds don't approach police officers in California. Either that, or I was not being mannerly enough. I tried again.

"Could you help me find my family?"

Then, he shuffled around a bit, pulling his baton out and waving it in random movements. To test it? To hit me? I'm facing south, correct? At any rate, he didn't answer me, because his hip started crackling and he almost lost his balance. Someone was trying to page him.

"Derek!" Something static... "Get...here..."

It was...the _penguin_. 

I shivered and clenched. There was no doubt. That voice fit the toothy smile exactly. 

The officer stopped playing with his baton and pushed a button. "Already?"

_Eight thousand one hundred and ninety two._

"What the hell do you mean 'already'? Boss is _waiting_! He is _not_ happy with you." 

_Sixteen thousand three hundred and eighty four._

"Coming."

He brushed some invisible crumbs off his uniform. Suddenly, he spotted me again, like he had forgotten I was there. Derek smirked.

"Your family?" He considered something. "Yeah, sure. Follow me."

I froze. I had someone to follow?

_Thirty two thousand seven hundred and sixty eight?_

Is this the right thing to do, or should I just find Butler on my own? I looked at the man as he raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter, son?" 

_Sixty five thousand five hundred and thirty six!_

"Hey, if you aren't coming with me to find your family, I've gotta leave. Duty - " He stabbed his finger in what-should-be-north. The direction of the fat woman's flight.

"Yes, I'm coming."

I made movements to indicate that I would be behind him. Mother would have killed me because my voice trembled.

But what of? I had found a police officer, I had someone to follow again, and _he_ is following the fat woman. _All_ of my conditions were met.

I crossed Broadway readily, now that I was being led. The officer marched away, not hesitating on where to go. He turned around and saw me lagging behind.

"Come on, son," he said. "Didn't you want to find your family?"

For some reason, he flashed on his enormous grin. I started to feel that perhaps he was an extension of the fat lady's shirt; perhaps the penguin had been _following_ me all along. But, it didn't make sense that the penguin was everywhere. The man on the radio, the smoking woman, and again, Derek. I pushed this toward the back of my mind. 

"Yes, I still do."

I began to walk faster. Cars drifted away toward an indeterminable east. The crowds lessened, and eventually, it was just Derek and I on the streets. A dull ball of orange flared above us, shining through leftover air that hung around my legs.

_One hundred and one thousand and seventy two, two hundred and sixty two thousand one hundred and forty four, five hundred and twenty four thousand two hundred and eighty eight, one million forty eight thousand five hundred and seventy six…_

_Two million ninety seven thousand...?_ I did something wrong above. _My family, away from the parade?_ That did not seem reasonable. _Where was this person leading me?_ I had no idea. _Why am I following him? _Because, I was lost.

"Sir?" I asked abruptly.

The man stopped and turned around. "What, boy?"

"Where are you leading me to?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm not leading you anywhere, son. Just helping you find your family."

"Should my family..." I started, "...be that way?" 

My finger pointed at the opposite direction.

"Whatever, boy," The man smiled. It looked vaguely chilling. "Where do _you_ think your family would be? _I_ have no idea. Like I said, I have duty this way. Some street gangs were rounding up or something."

I gritted my teeth in anger. "It would be kind, sir, for you to tell me beforehand you have other things to attend to. Why didn't you _say_ interfering with the gangs down there were more important than helping me, at this moment? I could have gotten another officer to direct me."

"You heard me. You also heard my radio. My boss is not happy. My colleagues are waiting on me. I told you to follow me, if you wanted to. And you said 'yes'."

For a tiny moment, I wanted to run back in the opposite direction. But something in my head told me it was too late. I _must_ follow this man, or there wouldn't be any help. Having an adult around made me feel secure.

"Alright."

We marched again, slowly letting our footfalls become a rhythm. I pulled: _Ninety seven thousand_...but wait...what comes after seven? Eight. No, what comes after seven? Eight? Nine? Zero? _One_. Yes...

A helicopter buzzed overhead. I looked up. 

..._Ninety seven thousand _one hundred and fifty two_! Two million ninety seven thousand _one hundred and fifty two_! _I didn't make a mistake after all... 

_Your parents _are_ at the parade. _

The once huge street became a narrow alley. 

Somewhere, I'm _sure_ we had turned...!

I was too busy doubling in my head to take notice of where he was leading me. All I knew was that 6th Street did not lead to any alleys. It was supposed to be a very busy and long road. My head pounded harder.

_You idiot! This officer doesn't know what he's doing! You've been following a trap!_

I had three seconds to think before I spun around and started to run toward the opposite direction, a moment too late. My legs buckled beneath me, but I pushed myself to the limit. 

Sickening shadows blurred in front of me. Everything was sluggish, humid, _wet_... It took me a moment to realize that several people blocked my way. Eventually, I was surrounded, and I turned back to see curls of smoke blasting in my face.

_Four million one hundred and ninety four thousand three hundred and four._

The smoke cleared, leaving water in my eyes. I blinked them away and saw the round face of the fat lady. I now knew what the front said. 

"The Penguin Loves Me".

Beneath stood the same penguin, with even chillier eyes. 

"Have we met?" she asked, puffing more smoke into the air.

I bored my own eyes into the eyes of the penguin. For thirty minutes, I had been trailed and mocked by a fat bird. I might as well face it so it will leave me alone. There was something in him that I had to overcome. I clenched, breathed, and stared fixedly on her shirt.

_Eight million...three hundred and...eighty eight thousand......six hundred...and...eight..._

"I _said_," she brought her pudgy face closer, "_Have_. W_e_. _Met_?"

She lifted me up effortlessly by my shirt collar. My stare broke. I was looking at her eyes instead of the penguin's.

"Hm? Have we met, boy? _Hm?_ _Answer_ me, boy!"

But I didn't. I never answered her. 

I was lost for words.

"Drop him, Margaret."

My feet smacked the ground painfully.

"Now," the voice said, "would you mind telling me if we've met before? I'd hate to let an old friend go without telling him I remembered his face."

_Yes, we've met before. I followed the fat lady so I wouldn't feel lost. _

"No. We have never met."

"Ah well. Never mind this fact. You shall be treated with the utmost hospitality, regardless." Pause. "It's a lovely timing in which you have joined us. We are about to carry out our plans. I really would like you to stay."

My sentences cracked. "Actually, I need to find my family. We're here for the para-"

"No, no! You simply must stay. It will be a lovely, friendship bonding experience. Derek, grab him a seat, will you?" 

I felt rushes of energy. _Now is the time._

But I was immediately shoved in a chair before I could start.

"I'm here to tell you a little story," the voice began. "Do you want to hear a little story?"

"No."

"Well, I think you _should_."

Margaret placed her heavy, sweaty hands on my shoulders. I was gripped until my head felt light from the lack of circulation. The voice boomed.

"Once upon a time, there was a rich family who had an only child. When I say rich, I mean _billions_. Not only were they rich, their relatives had impressive amounts of money as well. An easy target. By the way, how old are you?"

I thought about my answer. _Sixteen million seven hundred and seventy seven thousand two hundred and sixteen?_ No. I was five.

"Five," I replied. If manners still mattered, my poise wasn't very good. But whom could I blame? My spine was being pushed perpendicularly against an uneven surface. How can you keep your dignity?

"Five? Ahh..." The voice breathed. "The days when _I_ was five......" 

There was a long silence. Smoke drifted above my hair. I realized the fat woman had lifted one hand to inhale the cigarette.

My eyes scanned my surroundings. I was looking over every corner, trying escape out of this checkmate disaster... Nothing...

Nothing...

There can't be nothing...

"But enough of this nostalgia. I don't assume you know what I mean by 'easy target', no?"

I thought again. Yes? No.

"No sir, I do not."

The voice chuckled. It was not a welcoming one. 

But after all, the speaker _was_ the penguin on the lady's shirt. And the penguin on the lady's shirt was not a very nice creature. There is no logic, but there didn't need to be. It was inferred.

"An 'easy target' meant that they were young, unprotected, and had something that they valued over everything: their child. Why is this part of being vulnerable? Perhaps you know a little about hostage and blackmailing?"

I asked myself quickly. _Do you know anything about hostage and blackmailing?_ No. 

I was becoming tired of interruptions of my thought process. There might be a weak point on my right side. If only she would lift her hand up again...

"No, sir, I do not."

The voice sighed. 

"You have so much to learn, boy. We kidnapped their daughter, sent various letters asking for money, and promised a safe return of their child. Of course," the penguin laughed again, "we're _not_ going to return their child. Today, you shall witness a liquidation of their daughter, Maria. Do you know what liquidation means?"

I sifted through my vocabulary. _To determine by agreement or by litigation the precise amount of indebtedness, damages, or accounts?_

"I believe it is the determination by agreement or by litigation the precise amount of indebtedness, damages, or accounts. Is this correct?"

The voice laughed. "Bright little boy, aren't you?" Then, it hardened. "Do you mean, all this time, you understood every word I said? _Answer me!_"

Leftover waves bounced off of my chair. I had trouble figuring out why he was so mad. 

"Yes, sir. I followed your every word."

"_Damn!_" he cursed loudly. "I don't believe you're five!"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Margaret! Get her out, now. We're going to take care of this little precocity later. _Move_ it!"

The fat lady barreled her way into a deserted building.

I stopped clenching myself to think clearer. I thought I was on _thirty three million five hundred and fifty four thousand four hundred and thirty two_. 

It didn't sound right. I checked my right side quickly, hoping the woman would take less time than my estimate.

_Sixty seven million one hundred and eight thousand eight hundred and sixty four. One hundred and thirty four million two hundred and seventeen thousand seven hundred and twenty eight...Two hundred and sixty eight million four hundred and thirty five thousand four hundred and fifty six..._

A girl of about two came out with her pigtails hastily bundled. Or maybe they were messed up when they held her for blackmail. In her left hand, she held a stuffed duck that was marked with dirt and a green marker. Margaret was behind her. It made me fearful to have the picture of the penguin standing above the girl's hair.

"Now, boy, watch carefully, and maybe you'll learn something."

Maria dropped her duck on accident. Without hesitation, Margaret pushed her harshly toward the center, but the girl ran back, obviously wanting her toy. Impatiently, the woman picked her up and threw her in the center, where Derek was getting ready. 

The girl smacked the ground and started to wail. She tried to crawl toward the police officer, ignoring the ugly bruise on her arm. The man, sneering, pulled his baton out and struck her several times. 

She screamed. 

Both of the hairties fell out, along with trickles of blood. 

Maria didn't have pigtails anymore.

_Five hundred and thirty six million eight hundred and seventy thousand nine hundred and twelve. _

I started to cry. Where is Butler? He can take me home. 

Derek continued to hit her, as she was still trying to get to the other side. Her screams became hysterical. 

A perfect gust of wind blew the torturing sound to where I was sitting. I pushed the palms of my hands on my ears, trying to grab notes from the Unfinished Symphony. Scattered parts of the piece harmonized with her scream.

I wished the frequencies were higher. Then, I wouldn't hear it.

A single shot fired in the air. The penguin shot her, I guessed, but I knew _someone_ had a gun. The bullet hit her in the chest, true to its aim, sending blood everywhere on the ground.

If I was right in all my calculations, it should be _one billion seventy three million forty seven hundred and forty one thousand eight hundred and twenty four_.

More blood flowed out of the girl's chest, at an odd amount and speed. 

My reasoning was that a few hours before the killing, she was poisoned with various drugs. 

Her death had yet to come. It would be slow and painful.

I burrowed my head under my arms, trying desperately to drown out her screams. I doubled frantically - _two billion one hundred and forty seven million four hundred and eighty three thousand six hundred and forty eight_, _four billion two hundred and ninety four million nine hundred and sixty seven thousand two hundred and ninety six..._but the screams only got louder...my ears became programmed to hear a continuous cry...

"See, boy," the penguin called, "the key to this world is control. Society operates under the survival of the fittest. If you aren't ahead of the river, the current will drown you."

_Survival of the fittest._

"What makes society run? Think, boy. What makes society run?"

_What makes society run? Eight billion five hundred and eighty nine million nine hundred and thirty four thousand five hundred and ninety two?_

"_Money_," the voice sang. "Money makes the world go round. _Aurum est potestas_."

_Gold is power. _

Even if Butler were there, he wouldn't have been able to do anything at all. Maybe drop his jaw, but I could drop my jaw very well without the help of another person.

Butler couldn't travel faster than a shooting bullet, although he was trained, strong, and agile. Butler couldn't double in _my_ head to make the numbers louder, to cover over a two-year-old's scream and a penguin's overview of the world. Butler couldn't take all of these people out within five seconds. Butler couldn't give me my geometry book and tell me nothing had happened. 

Because something had happened. I came to a realization. All along I had been avoiding the penguin, afraid of him and his constant stare. I had banished him from my mind, hoping that, somehow, he would leave me alone soon enough.

But his words proved true.

"Did you like our display boy?"

I did not answer. For the second time in my life, I was speechless.

The lack of screaming was a scream itself. The girl had finally died from losing too much blood.

Uncertainly, I lifted my head from my arms, and used the sleeves of my shirt to wipe away a dampness that lingered around my eyes.

I was unable to look at neither the dead girl nor the penguin still...

...Still...

And never will.

I would never be able to forgive myself for not taking the weak spot that I had suspected, for following the fat woman and the police officer, for letting myself lose orientation after exiting the ice cream shop. For doubling when I should have looked at where I was going. For never finishing my thoughts...

"Get him."

From the corner of my vision, I saw a bulky man that had a shrouded Butler quality, and from above, something knocked my head down.

My eyes were forced to look at my newly bought khakis.

Then, blackness. 

But I was going north...


End file.
